"Just as I thought," he said to himself, an hour later, as under cover of all the interchange of good nights, he managed to slip away for a moment to investigate the contents of the mysterious paper. "`Meet to-morrow and have an explanation, or I may regret it all my life.' Um--ah! very likely I shall do that in any case. Still, I'm curious about the explanation part of it myself, so meet we will." "Come along, old chap," said Percival, grabbing him by the arm. "You've got to doss down in my diggings, and we'll have a good round jaw until we feel sleepy. Phew! it's cold!" he added, as they got out on to the stoep--for Percival's room was at the end of the stoep, and was quite shut off from the house. The moonlit veldt stretched away in dim beauty around, its stillness broken by the weird yelp of hunting jackals, or the soft whistle of the invisible plover overhead. They had been talking of all sorts of indifferent things. Blachland knew, however, that the other wanted to talk on a subject that was not indifferent, and was shy to lead up to it. He must help him through directly, because he didn't want to be awake all night. But when they had turned in and had lit their pipes for a final smoke, Percival began-- "I say, Hilary, what do you think of that Mrs Fenham?" "Rather short acquaintance to give an opinion upon, isn't it?" "No. Skittles! But I say, old chap, she's devilish fetching, eh?" "So you seem to find. It strikes me, Percy, you're making a goodish bit of running in that quarter. Look out." The other laughed good-humouredly, happily in fact. "Why `look out?' I mean making running there. By Jove, I never came across any one like her!" Blachland smiled grimly to himself behind a great puff of smoke. He had good reason to believe that statement. "It's a fact," went on Percival. "But I say, old chap, she doesn't seem to fetch you at all. I'm rather glad, of course--in fact, devilish glad. Still, I should have thought she'd be just the sort of woman who'd appeal to you no end. You must be getting _blase_." "My dear Percy, a man's idiocies don't stay with him all his life, thank Heaven--though their results are pretty apt to." "Well, Hilary, I'm mortal glad to have the field clear in this case, because I want you to help me." "I don't think you need any help. Judging from the very brief period of observation vouchsafed to me, the lady herself seems able and willing to help you all she knows." "No, but you don't understand. I mean business here--real serious--" "Strictly honourable--or--" The young fellow flushed up. "If any one else had said that--" he began, indignantly. "Oh, don't be an ass. You surely don't expect me--me, mind--to cotton to heroics in a matter of this kind. What do you know about the woman? Nothing." "I don't care about that I can't do without her." "She can do without you, I expect, eh?" "She can't. She told me so."